Arctic Plunges
by Seabound
Summary: Fleeting glances give way to bets with Nellie Gomez, leading Ian Kabra to weave a tangled (and frigid) web of troubles - and Amy Cahill's the prey caught in the middle. (For Lovely SOS's Contest.)


**Author's Note:** This is for Lovely SOS's contest; the point was to make a one-shot in which there is a contest between two characters of _The 39 Clues_. A contest within a contest. Huh. I had a pretty hard time coming up with this, but I guess it's contest-worthy. It's like Nellie vs. Ian in terms of Jake vs. Ian to get Amy. So it's sort of like a double contest! Even thought Jake isn't aware of it! LOL... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** The characters of _The 39 Clues _are owned by its authors. All story plots, OCs, and words belong to me, AmberCahill. If the need to contact me arises, then leave your question/concern in the reviews - I don't PM.

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1.

Amber eyes wandered to the secluded corner of the room, falling on the huddled figure wrapped in blankets. A steaming cup of rich, hot chocolate in one hand, and a worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ in another. Red hair with brown streaks was pulled into a messy bun, and jade orbs focused on the frayed pages of her book. She was curled comfortably on a beige recliner, back to an armrest and legs swung over the other. She was completely disconnected from Dan's wails of defeat after dueling Natalie in Mario Kart, and the booms escaping from the backyard due to the Starling's latest breakthrough. Not even Jonah's horrific singing with the Holt's attempt to join in distracted her; she was as comfortable as ever in the chaotic living room.

Amy turned her head, as if sensing his intent gaze on her. Ian quickly pretended to watch Dan search through a cabinet for _Brave_(who insisted the characters had _amazing_ accents), turning his expression annoyed. She scanned the room, forehead creased in confusing, before shrugging to herself and turning the page and sipping her drink, a faint smile playing on her lips. Her old habits of stuttering faded (rarely appearing, unless Ian was present), but the blushing and obsession with books never really died. She _always_ found time to read, of course after punctually completing the tasks assigned by her college professors as a first year student.

"_They gave us two shots to the back of the head... Yeow! And we're all dead noww! Ow!_"

Ian winced at the horrid singing; Nellie had plopped down right next to him, her iPod on full blast. In fact, he could hear the repulsive music clearly, even though she was wearing earbuds. Trying to distract himself, he looked back at Amy, who had her mug frozen between her mouth and her book, staring wide-eyed at its pages. He couldn't help but smile slightly, amused at her interest in the classic novel. He occasionally glanced back at the rolling movie (and ignoring Natalie's rants about how the accent was Scottish, _not_ British) to show that he wasn't intently staring at the girl across the room.

"Having fun checking out Amy, eh?"

He turned, and realized that Nellie had shut her songs and ceasing her howling. She gave him a grin, and he dutifully returned it with a sharp scowl. Refusing to answer her silly (and true) accusation, and watched the teenage girl on the screen notch an arrow into a bow. Her hair was unruly and frizzy, but the color was a shade of red, and Ian glanced at Amy once again.

"You didn't answer, which means you're not denying it," Nellie proclaimed. "And... you just did it again."

Ian rolled his eyes. "And it doesn't mean I admit it, either."

"I thought that finally after three years, you'd get the guts to ask her out by now," she said.

"Who said I wanted to?"

"You're impossible, you know that?" Nellie groaned. "Because I'm older than you and I can see these things as a side-liner You better make a move though; I think she might be giving up on you."

He didn't look at her, but said, "What makes you say that?" He made sure to keep his tone light with indifference despite mild interest bubbling inside of him. And maybe some of the rare, but faint disappointment.

"Jake Rosenbloom does."

"_What_? She's dating _him_?" Ian burst, his cover forgotten.

Nellie's sly smile grew and he knew that he'd just given himself away. "Ha! You still _love_ her!"

"Dammit, Gomez, shut up," he hissed. "And I do _not_ love _her._"

"You're right," Nellie said, pretending to think about it. "You really, really, _really_ love her."

By now, Ian Kabra was full-out _blushing,_ but thankfully, Amy was too absorbed in her book to notice what was going on.

"Okay, maybe I do. But if you tell anyone, I'll be releasing the wrath of the Lucians on you."

"Yeah, yeah," Nellie said, waving the threat off. "But, I have a deal to make."

"And I refuse to take part in it."

"Aww! Itty-bitty Cobra is scared!" Dan whispered, butting into their conversation. Natalie turned around too, which proved that the two devils had listened.

"Be quiet, _Daniel_," Ian snapped. "What's this deal?"

"You get Amy to date you before Friday morning, which is when Jake typically calls to check up on her."

"He _calls_ her? Jeez, brother, you couldn't even dial the first three digits without breaking into a sweat," Natalie said, smirking. Dan guffawed, and Ian shot her a glare, which she dutifully ignored.

"What do you say, Cobra? You up to it?" Nellie asked mischievously, sticking her hand out.

"What's in it for me?" he asked.

Nellie rolled her eyes. "It's always business with you, isn't it? I guess you get to eat free at _all_ my restaurants in every country I've opened them in for the rest of your life."

Ian pondered on the idea; today was Wednesday, which gave him the rest of the day, plus tomorrow, to seduce Amy Cahill into becoming his girlfriend. It shouldn't be too hard since he rather liked her. He was smooth, could flirt up storms, and make her blush into having a tomato's complexion. He wasn't sure what she thought of the Rosenbloom, but he was intent on making it nothing more than friends. Clingy girls at London pubs were easy to get with a quirk of his lips, but hell, this was _Amy Cahill_ and she was a whole other species of the female classification.

And Enchanté Cuisine was hell of a great place to eat.

Kabras always won, and he wouldn't be the first to fail. He grasped Nellie's hand in his own, sealing the deal with a simple handshake.

"Oh, and if you fail, you have to pick her up and drop her into the pool outside," she said quickly.

He stared at her. "_What_? It's thirty degrees outside!"

"Don't worry about it," Dan said. "We used to go polar-bearing when it was snowing."

Even though Ian was partly surprised by this new piece of information, he made sure not to show it. Amy would kill him if he did that (it had taken long enough to get on friendly terms with her, and when she was mad, she was _mad_)_,_ which meant losing was definitely not an option.

_Gideon Cahill, kill me now_.

o.o.O.o.o

Wednesday, the first day of Ian's challenge, was a _total_ failure.

His first attempt consisted of him trying to get to Amy when she was alone. He was strolling behind her in the kitchen, where she was pouring herself a glass of water. He saw her make her way towards the library, and accidentally bumped into her in his haste to get the job done (and rid of the horrid feeling in his guts). The water flew out of her hands, pouring on her copy of _Pride and Prejudice. _He then fell on top of her, causing her to shriek and turn a very attractive shade of pink. Ian didn't even take the chance to tease her; he had been so embarrassed (which was a surprise), that he rolled off of her as fast as he could. She swatted his hand away (while avoiding his gaze) and went to salvage the remains of her broken glass and search for her book. Unfortunately, the Jane Austen classic was sopping wet.

What came next was _completely_ unexpected.

"You _idiot!_ Ian Kabra, you are _clearly_ the _clumsiest_ and _stupidest_ person I've _ever_ met!" She was a whole head shorter than him, but the way her face was turning red in anger told him that he should at least be scared. He did _not_ want to die by a Madrigal leader's hand as the ruler of the Lucians. Amy's voice and indignant glare were fierce (in a mildly cute way), and she shoved the book into his chest.

"You are going to give this book perfectly dried by tomorrow," she growled. He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it. "And no, I don't want you to buy me a new one; I want _this_!" She stomped away furiously, locking herself in her library of perfectly dry books.

Which was the reason he had a blow-dryer on full blast, pointing at the half wet pages.

"I can't believe that I'm related to you," Natalie said, watching him with a pinched face. She frowned, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. Her brother looked so sullen, and _so_ pathetically upset, that she was starting to pity him. His lovesick state caused him to the most stupidest things; it had never been like this with his other girlfriends.

Ian clicked off Natalie's pink dryer and picked up the book. "It's dry," he proclaimed flatly, glaring at the troublesome novel. Sighing, he brushed past Natalie and dropped it on his bed, and sat down. He rubbed his face in frustration, ignoring his sister's disapproving glances.

"You know, if you want the girl, then you're going to have to do better than that," she said. "And unless you want to lose, I suggest you _step up_."

"I know."

"Instead of stalking her, why don't you actually try to _talk_?"

o.o.O.o.o

Ian paced back and forth in front of the oak door, a hardcover book clutched in his hand. He wasn't going to mess up. Today was his last day, and other than the lifetime food, he really, really, _really_ wanted Amy. The white wooden door in the large hall was simply the most intimidating thing in the moment, considering that an angry Cahill about her book was in it. That was saying something; Ian Kabra was usually the one _doing_ the intimidating.

Before he could retreat back to his own room the lock clicked and the door swung open. Amy stared at him with wide jade eyes, forehead creased as she tugged on her t-shirt nervously (probably wondering why Ian was staring at her bedroom door). He met her eyes hesitantly, but when her gaze fell on her book, her expression turned stony. She bit her lip, leaning against the door frame, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Your book is, umm, dry," he said, cursing himself for a small slip. Stammering was _not_ him; why did the suave Ian Kabra have to disappear in moments like these? Amy's mouth quirked into a smile, and she took it from him, her hand barely grazing his. She jerked away as did he, the mere interaction causing their skin to burn.

"Th-thanks, Ian," she said. He'd expected another angry rant like before, but she was acting shy, her cheeks tinted with pink. He nodded mutely, walking down the hall. When he glanced back, Amy was still leaning against the door-frame, balancing the book in one hand while applying ChapStick to her lips. The sudden thought of her pink, soft lips pressed against his own made him internally groan.

Was she trying to torture him?

o.o.O.o.o

He had failed.

Ian Kabra had failed to get the girl for the first time in his life.

The minute he stumbled into the kitchen during his sleepy daze (he was busy imagining every way Amy could kill him all night), Nellie, Dan, and Natalie pounced on him. Her sister looked mildly disappointed, though very entertained.

"Amy's in the living room," Dan piped happily. A broad grin stretched across his face, and Ian wished he had his dart gun with him. The boy would do much good with a dose of truth serum.

"Let's say I really don't want to do this..." Ian muttered, trailing off at the sight of Nellie glaring at him over her plate of pancakes. She held up a small disk, no doubt obtained by Natalie, which the words _Ian's Mirror_ scribbled on the front. He froze, perfectly aware of what that disk contained. He couldn't remember how Natalie got a video camera into his room when he was fifteen, but nonetheless, he was going to kill her. "Fine!" Ian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'll be going, now."

Attempting to look casual (while his brain was at war, preparing for her blow later), Ian strolled towards her. She was once again buried in her book, which was once again, completely dry.

"'_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.'_"

Amy dropped her book on her lap, looking up at him, surprised at his words. "You're only seventeen," she said. Suddenly realizing where his words came from, she smiled. "You've read it before?"

"Literature analyse class," he replied, smirking. "Replace _wife_ with _girlfriend_."

A blush spread from her neck to the roots of her hair, and she ducked her head behind a curtain of hair. Ian grimaced, knowing that the trio of devious relatives were watching somewhere. He turned his expression sincere, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Do you want to go for a walk out back?"

"It's thirty-five degrees outside, Ian," she said, confused. When he merely shrugged, she added, "You really, really hate the cold."

A sly smirk crept its way across his face. "What can I say?" he said. "I'm starting to branch out."

o.o.O.o.o

"Is your pool frozen over, yet?"

Her hair whipped around her head as she turned to look at him with wide, jade eyes. Confusion caused her forehead to crease, and she hesitantly answered, wondering why he would care. "No, Fiske puts something in it to make sure it doesn't. Why?"

"Oh," Ian drawled, side glancing her. "I just wanted to know if it was possible skate on it."

"Skate?" she said, laughing nervously. "I've never heard of skating on a pool."

He shrugged indifferently, a chorus of _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ in his mind. The pathway's gravel crunched under their feet as they walk towards the raised platform of the pool. Amy shivered, pulling her jacket around her tighter as puffs of misted air emitted from her mouth. Ian seemed perfectly at ease, thoughtfulness clear on his face, but nervousness often flickered.

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly. Amy stopped, stepping lightly away from him when their shoulders bumped.

"What?"

A lump traveled down his throat, and he looked at her with a sincere expression. "I'm really, really sorry for what I'm about to do, and promise not to kill me."

"Ian?" she said, voice shaking. "What are you talking about?"

Before she can move away, Ian's arm shot out, pulling him towards her. He slightly bent over to grab her, arm breaking her stance loose under her knees. She shrieked when he lifts her in his arms. Amy brushed strands of red from her face, and exclaimed, "Ian! What are you - "

_Splash!_

There's frigid water around her, and she's frozen to the bone. Her eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, and wet strands of hair framed her reddening face. Ian braced himself for an explosion, distant laughter from the rest of the family increasing. Amy's lips were set in a grim line as she waded towards the edge, teeth chattering. Ian winced.

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep, Ian Kabra!" she warned furiously. He sheepishly smiled, bending down so she could grasp his hand. When she did, she pulled as hard as she could and he fell in face first.

His first thought: _My Armani suit!_

His second thought: _I'm going to kill her!_

He surfaced, spitting out water and glaring incredulously at Amy, who wrapped her arms around herself. She grinned, completely fine with the water, but it was _fucking cold_ and he felt as if he was going to die.

"I hate you," he groaned, running his hands through his inky, black hair.

She giggled, swimming towards him. "You're lucky I'm used to this," she said. "And _you_ were the one who threw me in first, Kabra."

"It doesn't matter, Cahill," he replied, smirking while trying to prevent his teeth from chattering.

She waded closer so she could jab her finger at his chest. "You're a Cahill, too."

Rolling his eyes, he helped her climb the ladder back to the patio, where Nellie, Dan, and Natalie (wrapped in coats) threw them blankets and towels, hysterical with laughter.

Amy glared at them. "You set this up."

"That's because Ian lost a bet to Nora," Natalie stated.

She turned on the aforementioned smirking Kabra and shoved him with all her might. He grabbed her arm, taking her down into the icy water with him.

"You're going down with me, Cahill," he said quietly so she could only hear.

Sopping wet, he shook his hair, and tugged (a very angry) Amy towards him. Ignoring all howls of laughter from the Cahill clan and indignant protests, his arms looped around her waist and hand rested on her back. He took the nerve wrecking plunge, and as their lips connected, the only warmth was of the ones from their mouths, molding with each other and pressing with increasing intensity. Ian grinned as her arms circled his neck and her legs tangled with his own.

_Checkmate._


End file.
